This summer I’ll be moving back to a real city (with real men? THAT is the question!), which means that I need to find a killer bachelorette pad on the double (really, anything better than a cardboard box will do). I’ve been scrolling through hours’-worth of rental ads on Craigslist and the like, calling realtors like it’s my job, and just generally angst-ing about the whole process, which is long and tedious and very often feels futile.
Trying to find an apartment is just like trying to find a boyfriend.
I’m asking myself all the same questions: What am I looking for? What things am I unwilling to go without? What am I willing to compromise on? How soon should I move in? Why aren’t there more options that seem like the right ones for me?
It’s all very time-consuming and it feels scary and it feels exciting. To quote Raymond Carver at the end of “Fat,” an excellent short story, “My life is going to change. I feel it.”